


watch our bodies intertwine

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pining, Quarantine, Smut, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: Beca and Chloe are quarantined (yes, another"and they were quarantined!"fic) in Beca's Los Angeles home. Beca has managed to push away the feelings she harbored for Chloe back in college—they're adults now, she can behave herself. Or so she thinks.Song title from Demi Lovato'sSexy Dirty Love.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 29
Kudos: 218
Collections: Bechloe, Lock Down Fest





	watch our bodies intertwine

**Author's Note:**

> A combination of the following prompts:
> 
> 1) A fic where Chloe and Beca have sex all day in their quarantine apartment  
>  2) “You weren’t supposed to hear that"  
>  3) “God, I want to”  
>  4) Chloe walks in on Beca watching a porno when she thinks she's alone 
> 
> Shout out to Theresa for literally whispering one of the words while I was writing this. You can figure out which one.

It is somewhat disconcerting, the fact that something as deeply horrific as a quarantine would cause a flutter of excitement to course throughout Beca’s entire being. She _knows_ that the world is in disarray right now, she _knows_ the severity of the situation, but being shut away inside of her modest Los Angeles home—as modest as the Los Angeles home of a moderately successful music producer can be, anyway—for two weeks, just her and Chloe, is something Beca cannot be mad about. Quite the opposite, in fact.

At least, those were her thoughts on day one.

It had played out all too perfectly, it really had. Chloe’s visit, while at a time bordering on crisis, had been eagerly anticipated. So much so that the idea to postpone hadn’t even had the chance to come up. The literal quarantine, the city on lockdown, had been called on only day two of what was supposed to be five, and while Chloe had initially panicked (mostly about her cats), eventually they had decided that the safest thing to do would be to ride out the lockdown together in the confines of Beca’s home, with Chloe’s neighbor agreeing to take in her fur babies for the duration.

Although they don’t see each other as often as they would like, Beca and Chloe, much like all of the Bellas, keep in touch, whether through the Bellas group chat or phone conversations of their own. It is helpful that they’re both at least living in the same state, so while infrequently, they are still able to see one another.

The time apart, though, as much as it had truly sucked at first, had proven to be vital for Beca’s recovery.

(Yes, her _recovery_ from a stupid, can’t eat, can’t sleep crush on her best friend and fellow Bella. A crush that had been very much one-sided, as far as Beca could tell.

Sometimes, she would find Chloe staring at her in a way that Beca couldn’t quite read, or Chloe would start to fall asleep curled up against Beca, and Beca would feel a lazy kiss pushed to the skin of her bare arm, but that hadn’t meant anything. Beca had never had any confirmation, so it had never meant anything.)

She had gotten over her crush after graduation, she was sure of it. Right up until last week, when Chloe had appeared at her door with a grin so bright it could’ve lightened even the darkest of night skies, and Beca had caught herself inhaling the sweet scent of Chloe’s shampoo throughout their somewhat lingering greeting hug, the one Chloe had initiated eagerly.

Beca had realized, right from that moment, that she was well and truly fucked.

Boundaries have really never been Chloe’s thing. So, the fact that she had made herself comfortable in Beca’s home right away was not at all surprising. Even less so once she had begun to treat it as her own home following news of the quarantine.

It shouldn’t have been surprising to Beca when, on day three, she had walked out of her bedroom to be greeted by the sight of a shirtless—and braless—Chloe humming breezily as she made her way toward the main bathroom, towel flung casually over her arm.

“Oh, whoa—” Beca had begun, stammering somewhat. Quickly, she had averted her curious gaze, an action that’d pulled a gentle chuckle from Chloe in response.

“What? I haven’t developed any abnormalities since college, have I?” Chloe had asked, glancing down at her exposed torso.

Taking Beca’s stunned silence into account, Chloe had casually flung an arm across her chest. “Sorry, I can cover up if it weirds you out.”

Beca had shook her head in response, finally finding her voice again. “No, it’s fine. Just… You know, getting used to life with Chloe Beale again.” Regardless, she had made a point not to make eye contact, nor to allow her gaze, as desperate an urge as she may have had, to move toward Chloe’s bare chest.

Chloe had chuckled lightly again in response. “You’re so weird sometimes, Becs,” she’d stated breezily, before continuing into the bathroom.

See? _Fucked_.

* * *

It is now day one of week two, and Beca _thinks_ she has finally begun to get used to life with Chloe Beale again. She can at least focus on the work she is currently attempting to do while Chloe FaceTimes her mother in the guest bedroom, anyway.

In fact, with her earbuds comfortably slotted into her ears and her music to occupy her, Beca’s mind isn’t even on Chloe, not until she sees her breezing through the room from the corner of her eye.

“All good?” Beca questions, hitting pause on the track she is currently tinkering with.

For someone that had freaked out the way Chloe had at the initial mention of this quarantine, she is in a decidedly much better mood now. She practically skips toward the kitchen, and Beca takes note of the comfortable familiarity. It makes her smile, in fact. Chloe, hair tied up into a messy bun while she casually makes her way around Beca’s home in an oversized sweater and pajama shorts… It just makes Beca smile.

“Yep!” Chloe calls back in from the kitchen. While Chloe may have made herself at home already, she is still Beca’s guest, so Beca still wants to be hospitable. In an effort to do so, she tugs the buds from her ears, quickly closing the lid of her laptop and setting it aside. She can hear Chloe rummaging around in the kitchen, before she asks, “What are we doing for dinner?”

Beca shrugs as she pushes herself up from her comfortable position on the couch, arms stretching. “I don’t know,” Beca responds, slowly padding through to the kitchen. She is met by the sight of Chloe’s arched back, head disappearing into the large refrigerator. It makes Beca raise an eyebrow. “I literally foraged two days ago, we have plenty of food.”

“Foraged,” Chloe chuckles, standing upright. “You make this sound like an actual apocalypse.”

“You didn’t see Whole Foods. It’s wild out there.”

A small frown wrinkles its way across Chloe’s makeupless face. “This really is all kind of scary, huh?”

Beca nods in agreement, arms wrapping casually around herself as she makes her way toward the fridge—toward Chloe. “It’s definitely pretty serious. We’re good in here, though. Besides,” she shrugs, “You’re a decent quarantine buddy.” It is meant as a joke, or at least a lighthearted statement, though Beca notes the way Chloe’s eyes light up in response.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Beca Mitchell,” Chloe adds, stretching forward to push a chaste kiss to the apple of Beca’s cheek. “In fact, I wouldn’t want to be quarantined with anybody else.”

See? Beca is _totally_ used to life with Chloe Beale again. Chloe’s small display of Chloe-style platonic affection doesn’t make her freeze up momentarily, and she definitely doesn’t turn to watch Chloe skip away toward the cabinets. Nope, she does not.

Except, she totally does.

* * *

They decide on a less than healthy frozen pizza for dinner. It is really a less than exciting meal, but Beca cannot help but think back to old times as she and Chloe sit side by side, cross-legged, and devour every slice.

“Would you rather…” Chloe pauses in thought, chewing slowly on her current bite—the game had been Chloe’s idea, of course, “Lose your sight or your hearing.”

Beca’s nose wrinkles in horror at the very thought, but she responds easily enough. “Sight.”

“Yeah, that one was kind of obvious,” Chloe shrugs, biting off another mouthful of pepperoni pizza. “Okay, would you rather be covered in fur or covered in scales?”

The question causes Beca to chuckle quietly, dark brows raising. “That’s… I don’t even know. I’m pretty sure it’s my turn, anyway.”

“Fine, fine,” Chloe relents, glancing toward Beca expectantly.

Beca thinks for a moment, eventually saying the first thing to come to mind. “Would you rather never be allowed into California again, or never allowed into Georgia.”

“Easy,” Chloe states, popping the last bite of pizza crust into her mouth. “Georgia.”

Beca’s brow furrows slightly, and she eyes Chloe with quizzical amusement. “Why’s that so easy?”

“If I couldn’t be in California, I wouldn’t be able to see you.”

Chloe’s statement is so breezy, so nonchalant, but something about it causes a strange tug within Beca’s chest. She knows this is just a game, a stupid game at that, but that doesn’t stop her from reading into Chloe’s response somehow. She does that a lot, to be honest; reads into things with Chloe, things that she perhaps shouldn’t.

“Okay,” Chloe states, reaching for another slice, “My turn. Would you rather…”

Their game goes on throughout the rest of dinner, even continuing on for a little bit afterwards, until Chloe casually suggests a movie. Beca doesn’t really care what they watch, she is happy to just hang out with Chloe, but Chloe of course insists on signing into her Disney Plus account—because _of_ _course_ Chloe has a Disney Plus account—and settles on Beauty and the Beast. The original animated version, not the live action.

As usual, just like no time has passed between college and now, as Beca settles into the corner of the couch, Chloe settles into Beca. Beca notes just how comfortable it is, having Chloe laid casually against her, body slotting so easily into the curve of Beca’s position. Even more so as Chloe shuffles until she is stretched out across most of the couch, with her head balancing in Beca’s lap.

Beca doesn’t _have to_ respond by running her fingers gently over the top of Chloe’s scalp, but she does it. She hears the way Chloe hums contentedly in response, sees the small, satisfied smile settling onto her features as she gazes toward the television screen.

“This movie’s pretty fitting right now, huh?” Chloe questions somewhat distractedly. When Beca doesn’t respond, Chloe’s bright gaze flickers upward toward her face. “Stuck inside together. He’s even covered in fur, which was totally going to be your response to my _would you rather_ question earlier.” She cracks a smile at that, one that Beca cannot help but easily mirror.

“Wait, why am I the beast in this situation?” She questions through a small chuckle.

“Because _I’m_ the one locked up in your house,” Chloe states breezily, amusement still evident on her face.

Beca shoots a playful glare down at Chloe in response. “You can leave if you want to. Be my guest.”

An abrupt laugh spills from Chloe’s lips, before she sits herself upright, turning in the spot to face Beca. “Was that a pun, Beca Mitchell?”

It hadn’t been, at least not an intentional one, but Beca figures she’ll take the credit. She does so by gently shrugging a shoulder and allowing a smug smile to settle onto her lips. It is a good excuse really, rather than letting it be known that she is just naturally smiling in response to Chloe’s adorable, infectious laughter.

“Who knew you were so punny,” Chloe grins in amusement, reaching out to casually take hold of Beca’s hands. It is all very Chloe, the way she is just so naturally handsy. If anyone else was looping their fingers through Beca’s, Beca would retreat, but not when it’s Chloe. Beca never retreats from Chloe.

It is these moments, though, the ones that Chloe makes seem so platonic, but that could easily be read as something much more, that had been the source of Beca’s confusion throughout college. These moments had been the foundations of her pathetic crush, she is sure of it, and Beca cannot help the way those thoughts, those _feelings_ , creep quickly back into her mind.

“What?” Chloe asks, unintentionally drawing attention to the fact that Beca is staring—something Beca had not even realized to begin with.

“Nothing,” Beca quickly responds, head shaking gently.

Fortunately, Chloe doesn’t push. Instead, she shrugs her shoulders, fingers softly playing with Beca’s. “You know, they fall in love at the end of this movie,” she states somewhat cheerfully.

That’s it, _those_ moments. The ones that sound like hints. Is Chloe hinting? Has Chloe _always_ been hinting?

It is confusing, to say the least, and Beca doesn’t want to fixate on it. Beca doesn’t want to venture down dangerous territory, not again. So, she shrugs it off as nonchalantly as she can. “No point in watching the rest now, you just ruined the ending for me.”

Chloe playfully rolls her eyes in response, those eyes that Beca has gotten lost in so many times in the past, and that she is terrified of somehow getting lost in again now. It would be so easy to do, after all; it always was. “Guess we’re done here then,” she shrugs, letting go of Beca’s hands and turning to reach for the remote.

Beca stares quizzically, head tilting slightly. “Wait, I was kidding.”

“No, I know,” Chloe chuckles, though points the remote toward the television regardless. “I actually wanted to go take a shower, but you can watch the rest if you want?”

Beca cannot help but wonder if something has just happened here, something she doesn’t quite understand. Why would Chloe just be done with the movie halfway through? Beca wants to question it, but instead she just stares momentarily, before gently shaking her head. “No, that’s fine. I have some work to catch up on anyway, I can do that while you shower.”

Chloe responds with a genuine smile and a small nod of her head. “Perfect.” She exits out of the movie, then proceeds to turn off the TV, before quickly pushing herself up to her feet. “I’m gonna go shower then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It is not yet eight, so the fact that Chloe is apparently planning to go to bed after her shower is somewhat confusing. The look on Beca’s face, the one that says _what the fuck?_ without her _actually_ saying so, evidently voices her confusion.

“You have work to do,” Chloe shrugs, “Plus, I said I’d call Aubrey at some point. I’ll see you in the morning?”

It is probably not exactly uncalled for, the fact that Beca literally feels as though she has whiplash. She wonders if she has done something wrong, though if she has, she really cannot imagine what. So, she just watches in partial disbelief as Chloe retrieves her phone from the couch, then proceeds to flit away toward the stairs, presumably up to the bathroom.

“I…” Beca begins—she ignores the fact that she is talking to herself—in a hushed tone, “What the fuck?”

* * *

Chloe may have decided, inexplicably, to go to bed early, but Beca hasn’t. In fact, she still holds out hope that Chloe might come back down to her, so after a few moments of racking her brain for an explanation as to what has just happened, she decides that distracting herself with work, at least for now, is probably a good idea.

Of course, as she reaches for her earbuds, she notices the annoying flashing of the low battery light, because apparently nothing wants to go right for her this evening. In something of a disgruntled huff, Beca rises from the couch to trudge upstairs and to her bedroom in search of a second, hopefully already charged pair.

The universe, in all of its unforgiving glory, is evidently not on Beca’s side, she realizes as she makes her way toward the top of the stairs, just in time to see an entirely naked Chloe floating from the guest bedroom and toward the bathroom. Beca’s eyes, all too naturally, widen in response.

If it was anyone else, Beca might wonder why they don’t just change _in_ the bathroom, but it is not anybody else, it is Chloe. So, somehow, it makes perfect sense.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Beca mutters quietly to herself, quickly hopping down a step or two until she is out of sight. She doesn’t begin to ascend again until she hears the distinct sound of the bathroom door closing. In fact, for good measure, she waits for the sound of running water; only then does she scurry by the bathroom and toward her own room, her headphones now the last thing on her mind.

There is nothing explicitly _sexual_ about the scene she has just witnessed, but God, Chloe is _sexy_. The thought feels intrusive and honestly downright creepy, because Beca should not be looking at her friend in that way. Regardless, she cannot wipe the mental image from her mind, even as she tries to focus on finding her spare headphones.

Beca still cannot rid her mind of visions of a naked Chloe even once she finds what she is looking for. In fact, they only intensify further as she hurries back toward the stairs, passing by the bathroom door on the way. The closed bathroom door. The closed bathroom door that, just inside, there is that very same naked Chloe, the one clouding Beca’s mind.

God, this is sick, Beca thinks to herself as she descends the stairs. She should _not_ be thinking of Chloe like this. She shouldn’t be imagining how it would feel to have her hands on Chloe’s toned body, or for Chloe to touch her in the way Beca has wanted her to touch her so many times in the past.

It’s sick, it’s just so, so sick, and Beca needs to rid her mind of the image.

For someone who lives alone, and very well could utilize such amenities, Beca really does not watch much porn. In truth, it really doesn’t do much for her, but the idea of it serves a purpose for her right now. As she flips open the lid of her laptop, gaze shifting behind her to check for a clear coast, the idea to load up a website as trashy as pornhub feels like a good one, a good way to replace the mental image of naked Chloe with… Well, naked someone else. Someone else who Beca is allowed to think about.

In her flustered haste, Beca doesn’t even think to switch on her charged headphones. Chloe is showering anyway, and then she is going to hide away in the guest bedroom to call Aubrey. So, Beca doesn’t put much thought into it as she loads up the first video from the website’s homepage, feeling like a total perv the entire time. Hastily, she lowers the volume, and admittedly cringes to herself as the image of two women—of course it’s two women—come into view.

(Quite literally.)

People generally masturbate while watching porn, right? While Beca very easily could, while there is a certain ache building between her clenched thighs, she opts not to. She may be lost in an entirely inappropriate Chloe-induced haze right now, but Beca is still aware of Chloe’s presence within her home. She is not _that_ wrapped up in her thoughts that she would openly sit out here and start touching herself where Chloe could accidentally walk in on her, even if she is sitting here openly watching porn.

It really does make her feel very weird, staring at this incredibly contrived sexual display on her screen, but at least for right now, it is definitely serving as the distraction Beca needs—she isn’t thinking of Chloe, anyway.

The exaggerated moan to ring out from her laptop’s speaker causes Beca to chew down onto her lower lip, and she almost wonders if it is possible to get off simply by _watching_ something, because the heat spreading between her legs, the feeling of fabric dampening, all seems a little much.

It is a natural reaction, though. The video, while totally violating in reality, pulls her attention, so much so that Beca almost forgets where she is for a moment. Another loud moan rings through the speaker, and Beca bites down harder onto her lip.

She practically bites it off at the next sound, though.

“Beca?”

Her eyes, now momentarily hooded, shoot open at the sound of Chloe’s voice behind her. In her haste to scramble for the mute button, Beca somehow manages to increase the volume instead. The heat between her legs rushes toward her cheeks as she finally thinks to slam down the lid of her laptop, the silence around her an entirely uncomfortable one.

“I thought I heard…” Chloe begins in astonishment, though cuts herself off. “Well… That.”

Beca’s eyes slam shut, despite the fact that she cannot see Chloe anyway given the fact that her back is to her. It is almost as if she thinks that, with her eyes closed, Chloe will somehow just disappear. No such luck, of course. In fact, Beca is pretty positive she hears the sound of Chloe’s footsteps padding closer.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Beca groans quietly, head immediately bowing in total and utter shame.

Chloe doesn’t respond, and Beca is just about ready to beg the couch to somehow swallow her up like something from a terrible horror movie. Her heart is hammering so hard inside of her chest that Beca feels like it might actually explode out of it sooner or later, and she knows it is obvious in the shaky way she speaks. “You can go back upstairs and we can pretend this never happened,” Beca whines, eyes still squeezed tightly shut.

For all she knows, although she hadn’t heard her do so, Chloe could’ve already retreated, because Beca doesn’t hear her anymore, not over the sound of her own heart beating so loudly in her ears. Finally, she dares to slowly open one eye. She does not expect to do so to the sight of Chloe, wrapped only in a towel, standing before her.

“Oh, God,” Beca whines petulantly, sinking further back into the plush cushions of the couch. Her eyes squeeze quickly shut again, and she registers the sound of Chloe’s footsteps approaching, the way they pad across the hardwood floor almost echoing at this point. She can feel Chloe standing right in front of her, until Chloe is leaning down to gently move the laptop away from Beca’s lap. The motion causes her to open her eyes, worried stare meeting Chloe’s.

“Chlo, I—” Beca begins hesitantly, though Chloe cuts her off. Rather than standing as she sets the laptop down on the small coffee table, she instead almost seamlessly captures Beca’s lips with her own. For a brief moment, Beca’s eyes widen, and Chloe must notice the way she stiffens up.

Although somewhat slowly, Chloe pulls back, though her face remains hovered in front of Beca’s. Beca notes the way Chloe’s hooded eyes have darkened, the way she seems to be drinking in the sight of Beca’s face. “We don’t have to,” Chloe whispers, gaze flickering briefly toward Beca’s lips. They hang open slightly, with Beca still taken aback by the impromptu kiss. In spite of her words, Chloe lowers herself until she can almost cautiously straddle Beca’s lap. Presumably, there is nothing under her towel, so Beca makes a point not to look down. Instead, she fixes her wide gaze on Chloe’s face. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” Chloe continues in a quiet voice, tongue flickering out to lick over her lips.

Beca finds that she is momentarily speechless, and even wonders if she is somehow dreaming this. There is absolutely no way this is _actually_ happening… Right? However, she blinks to be met by the same sight, of Chloe straddling her lap and looking down at her almost expectantly. She takes note of the way Chloe’s chest rises and falls a little faster than usual. Beca swallows thickly, before tilting her face to press her lips to Chloe’s again. “God, I want to,” she murmurs against them, completely surprised by her own forwardness.

Almost as if to let Beca know she is actually there, that this is actually happening, Chloe leans her body closer until it is pressing up against Beca’s. “I want to, too,” she mumbles into the completely impromptu kiss.

The thought will enter Beca’s mind later about whether Chloe has wanted this previously, if she has been as desperate to feel Beca’s body beneath her own as Beca has been to feel Chloe’s. For now, though, her mind is entirely clouded by what is inexplicably transpiring: Chloe, sitting on top of her in only a towel, and parting her lips to slide her tongue experimentally into Beca’s mouth.

Beca easily allows and accepts the movement, lips parting to begin moving her tongue all too naturally against Chloe’s. As disgustingly, unbelievably sexy as this may be, there is also something else behind it, Beca cannot help but note. The way Chloe’s tongue slides against her own, head tilting slightly, there is so much _feeling_ behind it. It is the kind of feeling Beca has battled for years now, that she has done so well to push away, but it all pours out into this one unfiltered kiss. She cannot help but wonder if Chloe feels it, too.

Unable to keep her hands to herself any longer, Beca stretches her arms behind Chloe’s back, until her palms are resting against her lower back. She can feel the soft curves of Chloe’s body even through the damp fabric of the towel, she can sense the urgency behind the way Chloe’s hips grind down against her own.

The whole thing is overwhelming to Beca—the good kind of overwhelming, of course—so much so that as Chloe’s hands begin to slide into her hair, fingers tightening their grasp slightly, Beca lets out a small whimper against Chloe’s lips.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that?” Chloe breathes unsteadily as she pulls back slightly from the kiss. Her chest is moving faster still, and Beca glances up into hungry eyes, still in disbelief. She simply nods her head, because she knows—Beca has been waiting that long, too.

Grip loosening on Beca’s hair, Chloe keeps her darkened gaze fixed on Beca’s face, her hands moving to loosen the towel around her, until it falls down to her waist. Suddenly, Beca realizes, that image she had tried so hard to rid her mind of earlier is now sitting right on top of her, body moving in something like anticipation.

It’s habit at first, the way Beca keeps her gaze trained obediently on Chloe’s face, though she cannot help the way it slowly drops downward, breath catching in her throat as she takes in the sight before her.

Chloe looks like she’s about to lean in again, perhaps to reconnect their lips, but Beca’s urge to touch Chloe gets the better of her. Slowly but with clear intent, Beca leans up to push her parted, already kiss-swollen lips to the hot skin of Chloe’s neck. Chloe responds with a small whimper, head tilting slightly to give Beca the access she wants.

She doesn’t give herself the chance to mentally question whether this is actually happening again, not before she begins to press desperate, open-mouthed kisses downward, until she is kissing over the hill of Chloe’s breast. For her part, Chloe lifts her hands to run her fingers through Beca’s hair again. This time, as her grip tightens, it is to guide Beca, until she is kissing her way down toward Chloe’s already hardened nipple, the image so desperately inviting.

Instantly, Beca wraps her lips around the stiffened bud, pointed tongue flicking lightly across the peak. And if she hadn’t been already, Beca is suddenly hooked. She is hooked on the way Chloe whimpers above her, on the way she arches her back to push herself further into Beca’s mouth. Beca is hooked on the feeling of Chloe’s nipple hardening further beneath the fast pace of her tongue, full lips sucking onto her skin.

“Fuck, Beca,” Chloe whispers breathily. While Beca is evidently too preoccupied and cannot actually see her, she feels the way Chloe’s head tips back slightly, takes note of the way she grinds herself down more forcefully into Beca’s lap. The sound of her name on Chloe’s lips, especially in this moment, has Beca’s teeth grazing down slightly. If the way Chloe moans softly is anything to go by, it is something she appreciates.

Beca feels like she is lost in a dream, in a filthy, uncensored haze as Chloe reaches down to urgently tug at the fabric of Beca’s shirt. Beca only moves back from Chloe’s chest to allow her to remove the garment, and then Chloe is reaching behind her back to hastily unclasp Beca’s bra. The straps fall uselessly down toned arms, and Chloe proceeds to quickly peel it off, tossing it aside, until she can bow her head to pepper kisses down Beca’s chest. Beca’s skin feels hot beneath Chloe’s lips, and she cannot help her own verbal reaction as Chloe’s lips wrap harshly around her nipple, tongue beginning to swirl unforgivingly over the increasingly stiffening bud.

Beca’s head is tipped back uselessly against the back of the couch as she loses herself in the feeling of Chloe’s tongue moving against her, but she can feel the way Chloe reaches down to tug off the towel completely, and God, she wishes she could look down. She wants to see everything, to really take in the sight of Chloe on top of her.

“God,” Beca murmurs as Chloe’s lips tighten around her stiffened nipple, warm hands slotting between them to trail over tensed, toned abs. She feels Chloe standing from her lap, and it seems that she only releases her nipple with a distinct pop once she physically has to. Before she knows it, Chloe is reaching down to wrap her fingers around the waistband of Beca’s leggings. She begins to tug both them and her panties down her thighs, and Beca lets her. She allows herself a glance downward, to really take all of Chloe in, as Chloe lowers to her knees, tossing Beca’s useless clothing aside. She ignores the way her own arousal glistens on her legs, the way Chloe will be able to see how she has already soaked uncontrollably through her panties.

Beca can’t even speak, as if she is terrified of somehow ruining the moment. How it has even gotten this far, she doesn’t know, but she is also absolutely not complaining. Even less so as Chloe nudges her now bare legs apart, slowly lifting one to drape over her shoulder. Chloe pushes hot, wet open-mouthed kisses right the way up the inside of Beca’s shaky leg, until she is dangerously close to her inner thigh. Chloe must be able to feel the heat radiating from between her legs, Beca is sure of it. All she can do is stare down at the sight before her, of Chloe positioning herself between Beca’s desperately spread thighs, and pray to God that this doesn’t somehow stop.

When Chloe finally glances upward through hooded lids, Beca thinks she has finally come to her senses, that she has finally realized what they are doing, but if that is the case, it doesn’t stop her. Chloe’s gaze meets Beca’s, eyes remaining fixated on her face until she has kissed her way to Beca’s wet center. All Beca can do is bite down onto her lip at the sight of Chloe’s tongue pressing against her already throbbing clit, eyes still staring up into her own, before they finally flutter shut, and Chloe loses herself in the feeling of Beca beneath her tongue.

The feeling of Chloe’s tongue pressing against her, hot and flat, causes Beca’s head to tilt back into the couch again. Instinctively, her hand reaches down until she is tangling her fingers in Chloe’s damp hair, body tensing beneath Chloe’s expert touch.

The way Chloe licks her, the way the tip of her tongue flutters against Beca’s swollen clit, it is all done so naturally, and Beca finds that Chloe is better at this than she could’ve ever imagined—and she has imagined it a _lot_. Her breath catches in her throat as Chloe’s tongue pushes through swollen folds, lips wrapping needily around her increasingly sensitive clit.

“Fuck,” Beca breathes, her word cut off by an unintentional moan as Chloe sinks a finger inside of her dripping center. It is done without warning, but Beca is absolutely not complaining. Her fingers tighten in Chloe’s hair, back arching naturally, until Chloe slides a second finger inside of her. The sensation of Chloe filling her while her tongue flattens against her aching clit is overwhelming—again, in a good way… No, the _best_ way—and Beca’s hips begin to move instinctively, until she is essentially fucking Chloe’s fingers, the volume of her pleasured moans and desperate whimpers only increasing by the second.

God, Beca had been so ready for this. Truthfully, she has been ready for it for years now, but nothing could’ve ever prepared her for the real thing. Nothing could’ve prepared her for the sensation of Chloe sinking two fingers deeply inside of her aching cunt, or for the desperate feeling of longing Beca is filled with as Chloe forces herself back from where her tongue has been working so perfectly against her swollen clit.

Chloe stands somewhat slowly, though never ceases the movement of her fingers, until she is straddling Beca’s thighs again. Her fingers continue to pump relentlessly the whole way in and out of Beca’s dripping center.

“You have no idea how sexy you are,” Chloe husks breathlessly, full lips easily capturing Beca’s in time to muffle out another loud moan. Chloe’s fingers begin to move faster, the heel of her hand pushing against Beca’s aching clit with each new thrust inside of her. “Can you taste yourself?” Chloe murmurs against her lips, “Do you see how good you taste?”

All Beca can do is whimper in response, tongue slipping through the part in Chloe’s lips to move urgently against Chloe’s tongue. She has never imagined the taste of herself being so inviting, but when she is tasting herself on Chloe’s lips, while Chloe’s fingers move rapidly inside of her to the point where Beca can hear just how wet she is, it is certainly something.

Beca doesn’t want this to end anytime soon. In fact, she doesn’t ever want it to end. She had been so turned on even without Chloe, though, that she feels herself nearing her climax much faster than she would really like to. Especially with the way Chloe’s fingers pound in and out of her dripping cunt, tips curling on each deep thrust back in. With Chloe whispering against her mouth, telling her how she wants to make her come, Beca really cannot be blamed for the way her walls clench tightly around Chloe’s fingers, the way she climbs rapidly toward her natural edge.

By the time she comes, with Chloe murmuring her praises into her mouth, Beca is a moaning, whimpering mess. She is practically crying out against Chloe’s swollen lips, in fact, to the point where Chloe slows slightly, pulling back from the kiss almost as if to make sure Beca is okay. Hungry eyes stare up at Chloe as Beca pants breathlessly, arms reaching out to wrap around Chloe’s neck. Beca pulls her closer, harshly pressing full lips to Chloe’s once more. She feels the way Chloe’s lips curve upward against her own, hand slipping from between her legs.

While she pants through her high, reveling in the fact that this has actually, _finally_ happened, Beca is very much not ready to be done yet. Her legs tremble unsteadily, body pulsing in pure ecstasy, but Beca musters the strength to wrap her arm around Chloe’s waist and to lift her down onto the couch beside her. Chloe’s arms wrap around Beca’s neck instinctively, allowing her to move her, until Chloe is laid on her back with Beca hovering over the top of her.

It takes effort for Beca to pull back from Chloe’s lips, but she does it, just to stare down at her with lust-filled eyes. “I want to taste you,” Beca whispers breathlessly, almost looking for permission. Chloe glances up at her, head nodding through her faster breathing. Beca takes it as her cue to begin kissing her way down Chloe’s body, Beca’s parted lips pressing to every patch of skin she touches.

And then she is tasting her. She lifts Chloe’s thigh to drape over her shoulder, and Beca is really tasting her, for the first time, against her tongue. It is incredible, just how wet Chloe already is, though Beca can understand it—despite the fact that she is still coming down from her own orgasm, she can feel the way heat begins to pool between her legs again at the mere feeling of Chloe’s swollen clit against her tongue.

Beca cannot help the way she moans softly against Chloe as Chloe’s hips move, pushing herself further into Beca’s mouth. Long fingers wind through her matted hair, and Beca wonders if this had been as strikingly hot for Chloe when she had been the one between Beca’s legs, because the feeling of Chloe, the way her arousal drips against Beca’s tongue, is truly indescribable.

When Chloe comes, body writhing beneath Beca’s, she does so with Beca’s tongue buried deeply inside of her, pad of her thumb pressing tight, messy circles into Chloe’s swollen clit. Chloe’s verbal reactions are somehow louder than Beca’s had been, especially considering Beca’s mouth is not on her own to drown them out, but Beca is absolutely not complaining. She could listen to that sound all night, relish in the feeling of Chloe’s body trembling beneath her touch until the sun comes up.

A part of Beca doesn’t want to stop, even though she knows that Chloe has reached her peak. Honestly, she is afraid of the two of them realizing what is happening, of them having to snap back to reality. However, Chloe’s fingers are tugging on her hair, guiding Beca upward, until she can urgently reconnect their lips. The way Chloe’s arms wrap tightly around Beca’s neck, holding her closely against her as she whimpers through her high, tells Beca she doesn’t want this to end either.

It has to, though. At some point, it has to, but as Beca pulls back to glance down at Chloe, to search her face for sign of her emotions, she doesn’t know what to say. As usual, though, it seems that Chloe can read her mind. She stares up at her, gaze locking with Beca’s, before Chloe softly nods her head, as if to silently reassure her somehow. It is a small gesture, but it is one that tells Beca they are okay—they will always be okay, in fact.

Finally parting from Chloe takes a lot of strength, but as Chloe’s grip on her loosens, Beca slowly sits herself up, hands moving up to straighten out her now messy hair with shaky fingers. Beca still doesn’t know what to say; her gaze shifts somewhat awkwardly from Chloe’s as she notes Chloe slowly sitting up beside her.

It is fortunate that Chloe takes the initiative to take charge, and Beca doesn’t fight her as Chloe’s soft palm cups at the warm skin of her cheek. She uses it to gently turn Beca’s face toward her own to plant a small, lingering kiss to her lips. When Chloe pulls back, Beca does too, though neither moves very far away.

Chloe’s thumb brushes delicately against Beca’s cheek, and Beca notes the small smile forming on Chloe’s kiss-swollen lips. “I’ve wanted that for so long,” Chloe admits in something of a sheepish voice. Regardless, she does not break her gaze from Beca’s. More surprisingly, Beca doesn’t look away, either.

“You have?” Beca mumbles softly, breathing finally evening out some.

Chloe nods in response. “I have. I’m talking a long time,” Chloe clarifies in that same soft tone, fingertips still stroking gently over Beca’s warm cheek.

It is perhaps kind of dumb, the way Beca responds—hypocritical, even. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Fortunately, Chloe seems to find some humor in the question. Beca doesn’t understand her small, breathy chuckle at first. “When? I hinted. I hinted a lot, in fact,” Chloe says in a gentle voice. “I hinted before my shower, when we were watching the movie. Beauty and the Beast, and how they fall in love?”

Beca’s mind skips back to their conversation.

“You blew it off,” Chloe shrugs a shoulder softly. “You blow off all of my hints, so I guess I just didn’t think we were on the same page.”

It registers easily to Beca now, the reason Chloe had been so weird when they’d been watching the movie. Chloe’s hesitance, her sudden need to disappear, it begins to make sense. In fact, Beca can recount numerous similar instances in the past, and finds that she mentally curses herself for unintentionally stomping out any past fires before they really had the chance to ignite.

“God,” Beca whines softly, teeth sinking down onto her lower lip. Her cheeks have heated up, and she knows there is an obvious hint of red splashed across them, though Chloe just looks at her in something akin to adoration. There is a small pout on Beca’s lips as she meets Chloe’s gaze. “I’m really fucking stupid, huh?”

Chloe’s soft giggle is almost mesmerizing, though that is nothing out of the ordinary. Chloe has always been entirely mesmerizing to Beca. “Not stupid. A little clueless maybe,” Chloe shrugs, lips curving into an amused smile. “But not stupid.”

Beca bows her head slightly, though her subtle amusement is evident on her face. “I guess I’ll take that.”

The way Chloe leans in to press a chaste kiss to her lips is so natural, and Beca returns it easily. It feels like something they should’ve been doing for years now, in fact. There is a lazy, awestruck look on Beca’s face as they part, one that Chloe seems to take in.

“Come on,” Chloe says, finally dropping her hand from Beca’s cheek to instead reach down and collect the pile of Beca’s discarded clothing. “Let’s go upstairs.” She hands Beca’s clothes over to her, picking up the towel to wrap loosely around her own body. Covering up seems kind of pointless, but Beca appreciates the gesture regardless. There is somehow something strange about the thought of walking through her house naked—it makes no sense, all things considered, but whatever.

Quickly, Beca tugs on her shirt, forgoing the bra, then gets to work on pulling her panties, still entirely damp, back into place. Chloe stands from the couch, and Beca glances upward to the sight of Chloe holding out her hand to help her up.

“I can’t believe you were watching porn,” Chloe giggles softly, fingers wrapping around Beca’s.

Beca’s natural response is to groan as she allows Chloe to pull her up, leggings and bra bunched beneath her arm. “Shut up,” she whines, though her amusement is still evident in spite of herself.

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Chloe winks, the action causing Beca to melt all over again. Steadily, Chloe begins to lead Beca toward the stairs, her voice somewhat husked as she continues, “Trust me, it was super hot.”

**Author's Note:**

> Always down for more prompts [here](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com)!


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